Ever Dream
by Dark-AmethystUnicorn
Summary: AU. Cloud and Leon both dream of a past life; but both see a different end to the tale. Will there be a happy resolution?
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** don't own it

**Ever Dream**

**Prologue**

_He'd been here before. Seen it; felt it and done this before. _

_The detail of his surroundings seemed amplified. The smell of livestock and greens tickled his nose, soft 'warks' and the clicking of claws as the chocobos moved about in their stables, the dull roar of voices shouting outside, the clanking of metal upon metal and the details of his companion. He could see each long strand of coffee-coloured hair, the red scar and pale clear skin, thin arched eyebrows and dry lips. Crystal eyes glowed with a wealth of uncertainty, hope and fear as the man backed away, bare feet slapping lightly on the dirt floor, lithe but muscular arms wrapped around the sodden and torn grey linen of his shirt. _

_He suddenly felt keenly aware of his own clothing, the new shirt sliding over his torso and the steel-capped boots thudding on the earthen floor as he moved forward. His hands raised and slapped against the brick of the wall behind the other, holding him in place as their eyes met, silently regarding each other with a cautious calculative look before both leaned forward. He could see the black eyelashes fluttering uncertainly before slipping shut as a soft sigh escaped between parted lips._

_And suddenly there was pain._

_He stumbled back, eyes wide as they stared down at the sharp metal tip of a sword protruding from his stomach. A harsh groan escaped him as the sword was wrenched out from behind. Wincing he turned to meet glittering green eyes and a pale hand beckoning._

"_Come here Squall. You've done well."_

_The sword came down again._

In a small apartment in Traverse Town, Cloud Strife's eyes snapped open as his entire sweat-soaked body jerked out of a deep sleep.

----

_Tonight he saw things from a third-person perspective rather than the usual first-person._

_Blood, there was so much blood. He felt choked by it, instinctively covering his mouth as his stomach gave a violent lurch._

_A gentle hand pulled at him, moving away from the dream figures but keeping them in view._

"_You have to watch what happens." Aerith whispered as she wrapped her arms around the trembling figure and gave a cryptic after-thought. "With understanding comes healing."_

_He moaned lowly as a man was cut down, arching in pain as blood soared with a melancholic grace before the body fell on top of another like a blanket. Mouths moved in an indication of speech he couldn't hear. The last of the man's strength was put into shaking his head and linking his fingers with those of the one under him; he gave a tearful smile before a well-aimed firaga sent a piece of the ceiling smashing into his head._

_He gagged, doubling over as last night's dinner threatened to make an appearance. Aerith's hands fluttered soothingly over his back, the tips of her fingers and her palms cool as they brushed over his trembling heated skin._

"_You should wake up now Leon. We'll talk tonight."_

Opening his eyes to stare listlessly at the ceiling above, muscles trembled minutely and small gasps filtered through the room as he gulped down mouthfuls of air. Leon Loire could only utter one sentence to the presence lingering in his bedroom.

"Why do you make me see these things?"

-----

TBC?

This is concept I've been toying with for the better part of a year and I'm still not entirely sure if I'm going to follow through with it but I would really appreciate some feedback on what I've done to help me decide, thanks.


	2. Chapter One

I've gotten some very encouraging reviews for the small prologue I posted so I am going to continue it, **big hugs** to those who were kind enough to take the time to review and encourage me. However, I am telling you now updates **will be slow **because I'm not entirely where I'm going with this, I have a rough idea of what I want, I'm a little torn between making it a complete AU or leaving it partially canon though. I will be taking my sweet time because I want to get it right.

**Chapter One**

Leon Loire had known from an early age that he was _different_.

Normal people didn't talk to the dead. They did not dream about being a person in an age long past. That was the antithesis of all that characterized a _normal_ person. Leon experienced such things so he was different. He didn't like it but he accepted it. The first time he'd dreamed had been pleasant enough: he'd met Aerith, the vision in pink who would later hold him through the worst of the dreams, apologise simply because he had to see it, and comforting him when the stress became too much. As a young child in pre-school he'd quickly learned not to talk about gory deaths and blood filled battles, having made the other children cry which prompted many parent-teacher conferences. His father had tried everything, from medication to hypnotism, to suppress the nightmares in his son's mind that had no business there (if only because Leon had never had the misfortune to experience such things). In fact, Laguna had ignored his own failing health to the point where, even as a child, Leon had seen past the façade. Leon learnt quickly to suffer quietly about all he dreamed about as Squall Leonhart. He allowed his father to believe that one of the final treatments had worked. He stayed silent and the other children quickly forgot his terrifying stories –though they maintained a wide berth around him. He learnt quickly that what he saw and experienced wasn't natural.

_He_ wasn't natural.

As he got older, the dreams became more explicit, more bloodied, more pain filled. Though occasionally, to the gratitude of his straining mind, a peaceful or _intimate_ scene would play out. The dreams had ripped off the thick veil of childhood innocence so quickly that he had to wonder if he had ever actually been innocent. At one point the dreams had even been so bad that Leon had taken to gagging himself before going to sleep so he wouldn't wake his father with screams that tore his throat raw. As puberty hit, he quietly withdrew from the world, preferring to hide in the back of a room to avoid making friends who would only turn from him anyway. By the time high school graduation rolled around, the dreams rarely introduced new scenes and he'd adjusted to the worst of them. He told himself he no longer cared what others thought and was doing a decent job at convincing both himself and others of that. Sometimes, hearing the whispers directed at his back made him hide and contemplate home schooling. For the most part, he stood stoic and proud, walking through the crowds as though he were alone in the corridor.

His cold mask slipped only once after he'd adorned it; the day his father died, leaving him truly alone in the world. He stayed away from school for months. He returned only after the social worker gave him an ultimatum of a foster home. He forced himself back into a routine, refusing to neither rely on another nor allow anyone close again.

It wasn't the ideal life he'd dreamt of before the hellish visions ripped through his bubble of childhood innocence. Privately he mourned the loss of his childish thoughts of a golden future full of hope and love. He tolerated it, accepted that it was his lot in life and simply went through the motions and tried his best to stay afloat in the turbulent that was his life. Sometimes, in the darkness of his bedroom as he lay awake in a middle of the night, he allowed himself to wonder what it would be like. What was it like to have that love and total acceptance unconditionally from someone that wasn't his father? But these moments were rare and few; a brief interlude before reality intruded upon him once more.

Life was pretty lonely even in the biggest of crowds, but Leon knew better than to dare wish for more. _More_ was like a star; beautiful but unattainable.

xXx

_He was in a dungeon; cold metal bit into his wrists and shackled him to the wall. His body shivered violently in the damp air, his ears twitched at even the faintest of sounds. Somewhere in the distance, guards were talking, their voices a murmur as footsteps echoed in the corridors. He focused his weary gaze on the flickering light filtering through the barred window of the door as voices and footsteps suddenly became louder, the telltale whistle of a blizzaga spell ringing more sharply in the stillness of the prison before a deathly silence cloaked the area. His body tensed instinctively in an odd mixture of apprehension and anticipation. Beside him, a transparent Aerith smiled knowingly; though being merely a part of the audience, he was unable to call her on it. The steel door screeched open slowly; the noise harsh on his ears. One shadow moved into the cell, the others he could see flickering outside a few steps away._

_His eyes widened marginally at the figure in front of him, watching warily as the man came to a stop mere inches from him. He flinched then exhaled softly in relief as the shackles were removed, falling to his knees in exhaustion and cradling his raw wrists to his chest in a silent, pained gesture. He tensed when calloused hands carefully drew his hands away from his torso, stilling when the other ducked his head to gently press his lips to the reddened band of skin over his pulse. His breath hitched as he suddenly found himself drawn into a vibrantly blue gaze, letting himself be pulled into a standing position as the cool metal of a familiar weapon was pressed into his hand._

"_Let's get you out of here."_

xXx

For as long as he could remember, Cloud Strife had always felt different.

While growing up there were times he'd mistaken that feeling for a superiority complex. As a child he had excelled at sports and done reasonably well in the classroom. It was only natural to compare himself to the other children and often find them lacking. There were times in his childhood when he'd been very haughty as a consequence. Puberty, needless to say, had been a very confusing time. His athletic skills aside, he had been a normal child. Though slow to trust and unusually quiet, he'd enjoyed a few close friendships and many casual ones. Yet something lingered in the back of mind, whispering mysteriously, teasing him with the secrets of forgotten memories. He always felt there was more than what he could see and touch. It almost felt like an awareness of someone he couldn't see.

Occasionally, Cloud allowed himself to be vulnerable and open; confiding in his closest friends. Tifa took him seriously enough, giving it long thought but unable to offer helpful advice. Yuffie had turned the matter into a joke as she tended to do, when in over her head. Neither had been able to do more than give reassurances and try to soothe away the frowning expression on the blonde's face.

Then, quite suddenly, he found a part of the answer.

Just a few weeks after graduating from high school and moving into a place of his own; Cloud began to dream. Each night he was visited by visions that invoked a flurry of emotions; happiness to love, anger to devastation. There were nights where he'd eagerly absorbed the thrill of a good fight, of cherished moments stolen in a private location. Then there were the nights he could almost scream for someone to wake him up. These were visions of war; scenes of betrayal and deaths, and the feel of blood that would never leave his hands, forever staining them.

And then there were those gun-metal eyes.

Those eyes were a near constant in his dreams. Vibrant, expressive orbs locked in the impassive silk of a pale face. In the quiet of the evening, just before retiring to bed, Cloud would ponder the mystery presented by those eyes. They invoked a conflicting mess of emotion within the man; there was a need to seek them out, to protect and do whatever he could to see them sparkle. Yet equally strong was the desire to shun them, to shake a slender neck until those eyes dulled. The intensity unsettled Cloud and he was often restless in the aftermath of his dreams, taking long rides on his motorcycle to soothe his mind.

The dreams continued to evoke numerous questions from the blonde. The most important of which was _why_. _Why_ was he seeing them? _Why_ did it feel so important?

Cloud was sure that those gun-metal eyes held the answer. But those eyes were silent as the stars and equally elusive.

TBC

Please Review.

I'm really very satisfied with Leon's piece but I think the ending of Cloud's lacks a little in comparison. Feedback would be greatly appreciated please.


	3. Chapter Two

I'm going to be blunt: **you no review, I no update**. I have an unreliable internet connection so it's a big hassle updating my stories. I've mentioned this in my profile already and I'll say it again, I have this thing called a _life_ and it's a busy one so I need know that people would enjoy the fruits of my labour and would like to read _more _if I'm going to make time for writing.

On that note: This chapter is dedicated to the **two** who did review; seriously, they're the only reason I bothered with updating this at all.

Notes: Rather dramatic wording used for the beginning. Just in case anyone needed to know in advance.

**Chapter Two**

Mornings were an utterly exhausting struggle. Imagination and emotions were always strong in the immediate aftermath of leaving the cursed dream-world. Horror and fear clung tenaciously to the edges of his mind, his sanity. Four cups of bitter coffee did nothing to silence the cruel whispers that slithered out from the dark fissures of his mind. Throughout the day Leon did his best to no notice anything capable of triggering a memory but it never worked. Certain smells and noises unlocked the door he kept so firmly barricade in the back of his mind, unleashing devastating waves on his straining psyche. More often of late he took to avoiding work where possible, spending days at home before emerging and facing society with all its inadvertent triggers again.

To further confuse things, the dreams were becoming unnerving in a new way. Last night, for a brief moment, he could've sworn the other had looked at him –_Leon_, not Squall. Further unsettling, once Leon had shifted through the shock, he felt an awareness pass between them he'd never experienced before. For the first time in a long, long time, Leon hadn't felt so alone, that brief spark of awareness had, at lest temporarily, eased the weight off of his tired shoulders. Then, as abruptly as it had ignited, that awareness was extinguished, leaving him alone again. Leon almost wanted to cry out in frustration and hopelessness. He silently seethed until the morning light convinced him that it was doubtlessly a trick of his mind, created the need –his desperation- to believe, once, just once, that he wasn't so alone. His heart heavier than normal, Leon went about his day, resignedly crawling into bed as a clock chimed midnight in another room.

It happened again.

Leon pushed his doubts out the door and threw their luggage out after them. The awareness lasted longer this time, confusion ran rampant between them. From the corner of his eye, Leon had seen Aerith looking between the two of them in surprise before a thoughtful look graced her delicate features. Her lower lip was sucked under her teeth to be chewed as she floated closer to investigate. Silent green eyes watched the reactions played out as that awareness became more apparent. Shock slowly filtered into his eyes as it dawned on her that the two men had connected.

"Oh goddess." She murmured as the awareness faded, leaving Leon alone in a black void as his body began to awaken. "Was that meant to happen?"

When Leon awoke, Aerith was not there.

He sighed as he got out of bed and began his morning routine, burying the pang of disappointment. He'd so many questions and he knew that the pretty spectre had at least a few answers for him. He did things automatically for most of the day. He remembered going to work and a staff meeting –but not what was said or done. He vaguely noted the larger number of patrons frequenting the library as he shelved books into their rightful place. It took a moment to realise that one of the monthly events was occurring, hence the large number of visitors.

But it wasn't until the guest speaker showed up that Leon snapped out of it. Upstairs, overlooking the small platform, Leon spied long silver hair amongst the board members and froze as a nightmare suddenly came to life. The profile of an aristocratic face came into view as the silver hair turned halfway, a slither of aqua-green eyes glinted at him, sparking a dream-memory of light playing on a long katana in motion.

_Sephiroth_.

Quietly Leon slunk unnoticed into the shadows and slipped out the back. His body trembled minutely as he forced himself to walk down the streets and not break into an all-out sprint. Mind whirling chaotically, he tried to take it in and reassure himself about what he'd just seen. It had to be a resemblance. People didn't suddenly appear out of dreams. They didn't, didn't, didn't…Leon had barely managed to close the door to his house before quietly breaking down.

XxX

Grey-blue eyes stared dully at the door as the doorbell's ringing assaulted the quiet house, and its occupant's ears.

"Leon! Leon! Lee! Lee, Lee, _Leon_!"

Leon blinked, once, twice. Then wondered whether or not the hyper girl from next door abusing his poor doorbell was a good thing or not. His curiosity and caution surged to forefront and began a small scuffle for control, like children arguing over a favourite toy.

"Open! You're supposed to open the door when someone hits the stupid bell!"

Curiosity won out with a small victory cry –and one day, he really needed to learn how she always knew when he was home or not. He climbed to his feet and stumbled over to the door to peek out. The petite brunette with a large grin stood there beaming at him.

"Hey McMoody! Heard ya skipped work, that's total high school y'know."

"…sorry?" Leon blinked and took a step back as she wagged her finger at him.

"Don't be sorry! You work in a dull, gloomy library! Skipping is gooood!" As she spun around on the spot, he decided against commenting on the fact that the library was well-lit with many wide windows. Instead, he sighed and shut the door as she skipped inside. Leaning against the door, Leon watched as the petite woman bounced over to his armchair and promptly began jumping on it. "So." She looked up at him with a grin. "Whatcha skip work for?"

Leon raised a hand and pinched the bridge of his nose. "…momentary insanity." Or not so momentary, he thought with a morbid humour, considering the dreams that'd plagued him for most of his twenty-odd years of life.

"Awww, c'mon." Yuffie wheedled, hurrying after him as he disappeared into the kitchen. Slinging herself onto a stool, she jabbed her elbows on the small island as Leon began fishing around in the fridge. "Don't tell me you skipped for nothing. That's all you _ever_ do." She pouted prettily up at him and scowled when he simply stared at her in response. Silently she cursed herself for her yaoi obsession. Pretty pouts did not have work half as well on homosexual cuties. Well, she _assumed_ he was gay. He never peeked at her body no matter how tight or skimpy her clothes were. Then there was that one time she'd worn a white shirt with no bra and it rained…Leon'd offered a towel but otherwise showed no reaction.

Leon watched warily as her face darkened then lit up again. "…what?"

"You're coming over for my party tonight." She announced happily, but not, to his trepidation, without a certain dark undertone of warning. She was genius, naturally. Gorgeous young men like Leon couldn't be left to ferment at home –unlike wine _they_ didn't improve with old age. Leon was always so alone –it was the first thing she'd noticed about him. In fact, if she didn't visit, he'd have no one but those ancient librarians he called co-workers. It took only two days of being his neighbour to convince her that it was her divine _duty_ to help him socialise (Divine!). She'd moved into the house next door to him about two months ago. She'd instantly latched onto the quiet man the moment she spotted his leather-clad self and those lonely eyes of his.

…and if she happened to know a half dozen or so single guys Leon could be happy with, even better.

"You're bringing guacamole dip too." She beamed, clasping her hands together under her chin. The idea was perfect! Parties always broke the ice, Leon could start to peep out of that titanium-enforced shell he lived in.

"I agreed to this?" Leon stared in bewilderment at the scary girl he called his neighbour. _Him_, go to a party? That social function he hadn't attended since early kindergarten? That thing that involved large groups of people? He sighed in exasperation as he sat down abruptly. This girl really didn't know him very well, despite barging into his apartment every week or so and depleting his food supply.

In contrast to his doom-and-gloom response, Yuffie giggled delightedly and patted his shoulder fondly. "Yes you did, and very generously if I do say so."

Leon sighed again as she jumped up to raid his refrigerator. Well, maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

XxX

Optimism was likely to kill him.

Leon winced as yet another drunk stranger knocked him into the wall. He hoped Yuffie wouldn't take it the wrong way when he told her that she needed padded walls. Rubbing his head and checking his watch, he made his way through the throng of people towards the front gate, deciding to call it a night. He stopped on his porch and fished about in his pockets for his keys. Yuffie meant well but he really wasn't made for partying. He couldn't stand loud noise or cigarette smoke. Nor could he see the appeal of drunkenness in both himself and others. He just didn't do this kind of thing. He never knew what to say or even when it was appropriate to respond. He sighed quietly, hand stilling in the act of grasping the doorknob. Suddenly he felt so tired of it all. Freakish dreams or not, would it be so bad to someone in? Though, how he'd go about talking to someone -never mind opening up to them- he had no idea. Maybe Yuffie could…

"Pardon. Yuffie saw you leave without your jacket and asked me to run over here."

"Uh, thank-" Leon froze in the act of turning around, breath hitching painfully as his throat closed up. Bright blue eyes, almost glowing in the dimly lit porch, stared back with equal shock. Leon's eyes slowly travelled upwards to the shock of familiar spiky hair.

'_Like a chocobo._' Came the instant whisper in his mind as mild hysteria started to gnaw at him. Cloud. This was Cloud. Dream Cloud. A man who wasn't meant to exist, except in his head, to confuse and torment him.

Cloud stared back with a horrified awe. He swallowed back the lump in his throat, eyes roaming the figure before him slowly; lingering on the familiar scar nestled between shock-filled eyes. Settling his gaze on those stormy eyes, he dropped the bomber jacket, he'd been holding. Taking a small step forward, he reached out and brushed his fingers against a tense shoulder. It wasn't an apparition; it was _real_. _He_ was real.

"_Squall_?"

Leon choked, eyes glazing over as he groped for the doorknob. The door opened with a quick twist of his hand. Before the other could react, he'd stumbled inside and slammed the door shut, hands shaking as they fell away from the heavy wood. Short, harsh breaths were pulled from his lungs as he stared listlessly at the door.

…what was he going to do?

Cloud stared at the door for a long moment, attempting to take it all in. As a lock clicked, he started, a hand rising to rest above the doorknob. Eyes closed in thoughts; he tried to find a response to all of this. His mind blanked on him; showing only those gunmetal eyes wide with shock and fear before the door shielded them from his view. Those eyes had haunted him for nearly five years. He'd never really believed that they were real. But they were. He didn't know whether that was good or bad, given the nature of his dreams. Sighing, he jammed his hands in pockets and walked back to the street towards his motorcycle. Maybe he'd better sleep on it and make a decision after the alcohol had been flushed from his system.

Aerith sighed deeply as she watched the slumbering brunet toss fitfully in bed. Finally, the two had met. Something that had not happened since their first lives together. Something Aerith couldn't ascertain to be a good thing.

For once, it was not the dreams that were disturbing Leon's rest.

TBC?


End file.
